I’m dancin. Dancin like my name starts with G, and Jay Z is my favourite rapper. Dancing like I can. Because it’s the end of a chapter where things worked out really well, when no one knew what was going to happen. Dancing cuz the speakers are loud and it’d be disrespectful to everyone if I weren’t. Even though no one else is around. Dance for New Friends. Music. Banter. Moka flavoured yogurt. Good friends on the coast. “We’re in a life cycle right now,” she said. Eb/flow. Up/down. Green/brown. Love/loss. And that’s part of the story. And I’ll be there too, one day – And don’t accept that fact so much that you’re invincible right now, but accept it more than you reject it, so you can walk through a few walls from time to time. You’re playing 40 year old board games. You’re On Assignment for the National Geographic – crossing the International Dateline. You’re calling out for rye! and oats! in The Pit. You’re talking about rural lifestyle implications, and film ideas. Two harmonicas and a ukelele. You’re riding with a helmet (out of peer pressure) and halfway through the ride you’re even enjoying it.
“Did you know there’s a big stumps photo contest? I think the Western Canada Wilderness Committee is putting it on.” “Ancient Forest Alliance, maybe?” You respond back to the guy who caught you taking photos of big old trees on a sunny day on Bowen Island. “Yeah, that could be it.” And you’re happy cuz that was Ken and TJ’s idea. And some of the stumps on Bowen are could-be-contenders. And we fundraised a ton of cash for Media Democracy Day. And tomorrow is going to be a long day. And you forgot to fix the skylight molding at the summer apartment, but you left a nice note and a fire-flavoured chocolate bar. And suddenly that sharp sensitivity in your eyes hits you again. Goggles, is what you need. Amelia Earheart style. And then you look up her photo, and naturally, she was a major babe.
And now Jay Z is rapping out Forever Young. ‘Just let it run..’ he says. Okay, Jay… We’re listening.